Memory of Silk
by DrosselmeyerWrites
Summary: The hardening of his heart broke the gentle heart of another.


He remembered silk.

"Mama is gone."

It was more a statement than a question. Paying the least amount of attention necessary, Sesshoumaru slanted a glance at the young child balanced against his hip and ignored the sharp twinge of guilt pulsating periodically in his gut. He chose to ignore the way one chubby, little hand with baby-soft claws clung tightly to his kimono while the other flexed and scratched on his armor, unable to make a mark. He did not pay heed to the pathetic, throaty growls that came forth from the young vocal chords as they passed a grazing rabbit or some other small form of potential prey and mentally berated himself when he noticed that those growls that were meant to be threatening did in fact only sound like gurgles.

He did not acknowledge the joyous peal of young laughter that burst from the child as a colorful butterfly fluttered past them.

It sounded like hers.

Sesshoumaru swallowed around a sudden knot in his throat. The guilt would not be borne by him.

But it was strange, he thought as he continued walking steadily through the woods, that her memory would invade his mind now. As if her ghost followed him on the wind and pleaded with him to reconsider what he was doing, her memory wrenched into his hardening heart and stubbornly held on.

He remembered the warmth in silk.

A small tuft of softness pushed under his chin right then. Sesshoumaru lowered his gaze and saw the shining mane of silver resting against his throat. The child, despite the coldness and harshness of his armor, had curled around to his chest to rest more comfortably against him. The complete and utter trust the child had in him made his insides twist, and he felt sick. He could see the eyelids begin to close over sleepy, golden eyes, the thick fringe of black lashes resting gently on the smooth cheeks.

He ignored the sudden sting of salt to his nostrils and the silvery streak sliding down the child's cheek.

**oOoOo**

_"You'll ruin it," he spat, looking on with disdain as she used her new kimono to wipe the tears from her son's eyes and the mud from his face. His chin lifted defiantly when the child turned a hurt gaze toward him, more tears rolling down his cheeks._

_Her melodic laughter interrupted the tension in the room as she swept her baby into her arms and used the sleeve of her kimono to clean his face. "This is what a mother's kimono is intended for, Sesshoumaru."_

_He silently scoffed at the gentle chide, watching as the light silk darkened with wetness and smeared with mud. Did she realize what it was to keep her in pretty kimonos? Did she understand the risks he took every day in protecting them in his household? The stained kimono said clearly that she did not._

_"All better," he heard her whisper._

_A happy smile returned to the child's face once more as he lifted his small, chubby arms to circle her neck and cling to her, glad that his mother knew how to make his hurts go away._

_Sesshoumaru's stubborn chin lowered as he looked on. Perhaps stained silk was not so bad?_

**oOoOo**

The child suddenly reached for the sleeve of his kimono, and Sesshoumaru jerked his arm away. He felt the softness under his chin move but refused to look down into the tearful eyes he knew were looking at him. Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes turned to hours. Sesshoumaru continued walking through the forest with the child in his arms, taking note that the sun was beginning to set below the horizon line.

"You walk now."

He unceremoniously pried the child from his front and dropped him to his feet, not once stopping but continuing to walk as if it were nothing. There was a small thud when the child's feet hit the ground and then silence as he tried to understand what was going on. Sesshoumaru glanced back and saw the little ears perched on his head swivel, trying to take in the myriad of sounds approaching with nightfall. Wide eyes nervously darted back and forth as one sound jumped to another, and the small formed cringed when the surroundings became too much, overwhelming him.

The dull scent of fear permeated Sesshoumaru's senses. "InuYasha, come."

It only took one startled glance at his older half-brother for InuYasha to understand that Sesshoumaru meant to be obeyed. He took a few tentative steps forward, tripped over a fallen branch, and then dashed after his older sibling. Walking by his side, InuYasha tried to take hold of the lower side of Sesshoumaru's kimono, becoming confused and hurt when he moved from his grasp. He was even more confused when Sesshoumaru's pace increased, leaving his small legs in a near state of panic as he ran to keep up.

How long they continued like this was a mystery to Inuyasha. He only knew the fading of the twilight into the dark. His little legs burned, and his throat froze from the deep breaths he had to take as the night air settled in. He sniffled as his tiny body begin to give, and he gave a despairing look to his brother's back. He was not big and strong like his brother. He could not keep up any longer.

Sesshoumaru whirled around when the scent of salt reached him again and watched as InuYasha collapsed on the ground, a small bundle of lost hope and tears.

"Get up." His voice was deathly calm.

Sadness and grief greeted him when his little brother looked up. Sesshoumaru watched as one pudgy hand reached forward and pushed against the ground, soon followed by the other one. But InuYasha winced suddenly and fell back to the unforgiving ground.

Closing his eyes to dispel the pathetic image, Sesshoumaru unwillingly breathed in the metallic scent of blood.

And he remembered the sound of the silk.

**oOoOo**

_"Sesshoumaru!"_

_T_ _he poison that filled his eyes and nose kept him from fully sensing her, but the sound of her voice and the rustle of her layered kimono revealed all that he needed to know._

_"Leave, Izayoi," he commanded. A dark malice rose in the room as his servants and court reacted unfavorably to her presence. He despised not being able to see their faces or smell their emotions, relying only on his hearing. The hearing and even the eyesight of an inuyoukai were intensely acute, but his nose could tell him what both other senses could not. He was utterly blind without his nose._

_A few warning growls rose when Izayoi fell beside him and then turned into outright snarls when her cool hands cupped his face. He tried to ignore the whisper of silk as she lifted the sleeve of her kimono to his face to clear out his eyes and told himself that he would not recognize the comfort that this woman brought._

_"_ _Water," she said, lifting his hand in hers and daring to use his claws to slice off the soiled sleeve of her kimono._

_A menacing growl erupted from one corner of the room, but he could hear the servants begin to move away to get her what she wanted._

_T_ _hen he felt her tickle him under his nose. His nose twitched, and he jerked back. But just when he thought that he had rid himself of the annoying sensation, Izayoi used the clean sleeve of her kimono to tickle him again._

_"_ _Human!" he growled, humiliated that she would treat him as such in the presence of others less. Regret over taking in his father's mistakes began to rise, but before he could say or do anything else, he sneezed._

_Loudly and what Sesshoumaru was sure could be described as repulsively, he sneezed._

_But he could smell clearly once again._

_Inhaling finally though clear nostrils, he tried to ignore his relief. Instead, he focused on the fresh bowl of water across the room before he smelled before hearing its gently sloshing. He breathed deeply, silently grateful that he could smell again. And then a moment later, he tried to ignore the fact that Izayoi was pouring the water into his eyes and mopping his face dry with the other sleeve of her kimono._ _"_

_"Can you see?"_

_He gave her a curt nod and then sat upright, glowering when she began using the hem of her kimono to sop up the blood of wounds that had been neglected. Dared to mother him._

_He growled. "Stop ruining your kimonos, human."_

_Izayoi just smiled. "This is what they are for."_

**oOoOo**

They had called him weak when he allowed her to care for him. They had called him unfit to lead after she died when he allowed her hanyou child to remain with their kind.

He would _not_ be weak nor unfit to lead.

With a single leap, he bound back to where InuYasha lay in a heap on the ground and lifted him by the back of the oversized fire rat clothing. Then, none too gently, Sesshoumaru took off running through the woods, leaving the child to hang loosely beside him.

The wind cried behind him; the child cried beside him.

His heart hardened inside of him.

They finally came to a clearing and Sesshoumaru let the child fall from his grasp. His little brother, the child who had once held such admiration and trust in him, now cowered in the wake of his shadow. InuYasha's tears were not silent now as they had been. Now, they streamed down his cheeks as he convulsed with sobs, lost as to what was happening to him or why. The small body curled in on itself as chubby arms wrapped around small knees, and he buried his face in them.

Sesshoumaru decided not to notice the way the small, soft ears pinned back and lay flat against the child's skull as he cried.

The sudden image of Izayoi comforting the child when he was in such a state almost broke his resolve, but he stubbornly forced the thought away.

His heart was like ice.

"Sesshoumaru—"

"You stay here now, half-breed."

InuYasha's head came up then, hurt eyes staring straight into the cold, golden ones of his brother.

He didn't recognize him.

"Where do I sleep?" he asked, his voice breaking. "What do I eat?" He buried his face in his knees again, his cries barely muffled.

"You will be strong," Sesshoumaru said apathetically as he turned and began to walk away into the woods, "or you will be dead."

He pushed of suddenly into the air, pretending never to have heard the terrified voice of his little brother screaming his name. The sound of his body crashing through the canopy of trees drowned out the screams momentarily. But before he cleared the branches, his kimono caught and ripped. White silk sheared from his sleeve floated silently to the ground.

He could hear the screams again, though this time they were accompanied by the pitter-patter of little feet tearing across the ground after him.

Sesshoumaru never looked back. If he had, he would have seen the abandoned, crying child clinging to the piece of his kimono that had fallen. Alone. _Vulnerable._

He remembered silk, but the life of the memory had died.

* * *

**A/N: This is a story from years before that I had written under a different account. Just a thought that takes some liberties on what could have been the start of the brothers' rocky relationship. Angsty for sure. Thank you for reading.**


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